Secret Admirers and Cheesy Love Letters
by imaginarydaydreams
Summary: Pairing: England/Canada (UKCan); Matthew keeps finding love letters on his seat at meetings and he's determined to find out just who it is. Ft. Alfred as best 'wingman.'


Matthew honestly had no idea where all of these letters were coming from. They were always placed gingerly on his seat in the world conference hall, his name written in smooth, gorgeous calligraphy on the front of the crisp envelope. Even the letter itself was treated with the utmost care, folded and tucked in so that paper remained smooth to the touch with not a crease out of place. He didn't know where they came from, nor who the sender was, but they would always be waiting from him on his chair.

Matthew had once made the mistake of telling Alfred about the mysterious letters, who just shrugged it off as "a secret admirer, dude! Now are you coming to get some take-out with me or what?". He wasn't fully convinced that it was "just a secret admirer", implying that it was just a tiny crush or puppy-dog love. The amount of love and adoration that filled every page hinted that this person was deeply infatuated with Matthew.

Still, that didn't exactly solve the puzzle of who the person was. All Matthew had to go by was the sender's handwriting and writing style. The print was small yet neat, the letters flowing gracefully from line to line as pages upon pages were covered with detailed admiration. The mystery person would always describe Matthew using flowery, poetic language, often naming him as "a masterpiece granted to the world by the heavens and stars above; the angels that echo their songs through piqued ears have never heard such laughter, such elegance, that graces all those who come to listen to this blessing in disguise." Each letter that he received—he counted seventeen including the one he obtained that morning—always had the faintest scent of earl grey tea that clung to the delicate paper, yet was never distinguishable enough to bring attention to it.

He still was grateful to the person however; a secret admirer is not something that comes by on a regular basis. Actually, Matthew was quite astonished when the first one awaited him on the plush cushion. What were the chances that someone would notice him compared to, say, his much louder and bolder brother from the south? It undoubtedly was a miracle in itself that the others even acknowledged his presence during the meetings, but that was only due to them sitting on him, bumping into him, or something along those lines. Certainly when this person's identity becomes known to him, Matthew will definitely show his appreciation and gratitude.

* * *

Arthur sat at home in front of his desk once again, fountain pen in hand and an unwrinkled sheet of his finest rose-printed stationary lying before him. A steaming mug of earl grey tea sat to the side, seemingly ignored in favor for the task at hand. The impatient tapping of the pen on his head resounded through the room, bushy eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he stared intently at the blank sheet. In other words, Arthur was suffering from writer's block.

He didn't understand why the words weren't flowing on the page as they normally did. His muse was such a beautiful being, both inside and out, and Arthur could spend hours just listing the basic things he loved about Matthew, yet inspiration just wasn't striking him today.

Arthur leaned back into the leather seat, exasperated, as he swapped his pen in exchange for the calming tea. Taking a sip, he closed his eyes and thought about what made Matthew special to him. Was it the quiet and tranquil way he carried himself around? The soft voice that spoke nothing but kind words towards anyone? Or maybe it was the way his violet eyes would twinkle, the most stunning of smiles adorning his face, as he talked about his interests with small but animated hand gestures when asked. His heart fluttered with every thought and closely-observed detail. Either way, the soft-spoken Canadian had managed to capture Arthur's heart and he wouldn't have it any other way.

A quick glance at the clock told Arthur that he had spent about thirty minutes just thinking about Matthew. Now if he could only get those thoughts on paper, dammit! He leaned forward and placed the mug back on the desk, once again picking up the pen and drumming it against his temple. _'What makes Matthew special to me? Think, Arthur, think!'_ Finally mustering up something, he began to write, elegant lettering filling line after line until two pages were covered with the Brit's handwriting. Given that this one was much shorter than the others, Arthur indulged in getting to actually read what he wrote before he sent it.

 _My dearest Matthew,_

 _You have seized not only my heart, but my soul as well in your warm embrace. Not a minute, nary a second, pass through the blessed day that I do not spend my time indulging in thoughts of you. There are so many feelings to describe my love for you, yet not enough words in the world to convey them. From your joyous smile that could shine through any darkness to your exquisite violet eyes that shame the stars against midnight velvet, your presence alone is a gift unto the world. As written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight; For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need, by sun and candle-light…'_

Arthur rattled off the remaining of Sonnet 43, having memorized the poem by heart, then proceeded to skim the rest of the letter for any mistakes. _'Certainly not my best work, but it will have to do for now.'_

The melodious chiming of the grandfather clock in the hall signaled the time; eleven in the evening wasn't the bed time to be awake, especially on the evening before another world conference. _'I should go to bed now before the frog suffers more insults tomorrow than actually needed.'_ Blinking tired eyes, he set down his pen, gingerly folded the letter into thirds and placed it in a red envelope. Red was Matthew's favorite color after all. After rinsing off his neglected mug of tea in the kitchen, Arthur shuffled into his bedroom and laid down on the plush covers, Matthew being the last thought on his mind before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Matthew was determined to figure out who this "secret admirer" was. That's why he was currently waiting around the corner of the conference hall with Alfred as his recruited help. He had his suspicions about the person's identity—and had even asked if anyone had seen someone leave the letters—but today was going to confirm those suspicions. Which was why Alfred was there with him. The two brothers had arrived extra early to the meeting (much to the American's dismay), awaiting for the person to arrive and place the letter on Matthew's seat as always. While Alfred sat inside, waiting, Matthew waited around the corner until Alfred gave him the signal that someone was there.

Matthew's own heart raced as he thought it over. He would finally get to meet the person who thought the world of him. The person that saw only him in a crowd of much more boisterous people. His grip on the sweets he had brought tightened; they were a present to his admirer for the kind words. He only hoped that the person would like the freshly-made Nanaimo bars that he spent all night making.

Matthew was snapped out of his thoughts as a loud "AHA!" resonated off the walls of the conference room. _'They're already here?'_ Matthew thought as he ran to the doors, swinging them open to find Alfred holding a struggling Arthur by the waist.

"Hey Mattie, I was totally coming to get you! Eyebrows here just showed up outta nowhere. Maybe he's your secret admirer! Who would have thought, huh?"

"I am NOT! Now let me go, you idiot! I swear, where did you learn your manners? From Francis? Because I certainly didn't teach you to behave-"

Arthur stopped his ranting halfway as his eyes followed the fluttering of a red envelope to the floor. His face remained completely expressionless, but unlike Alfred, Matthew knew how to read expressions and could clearly see the panic in Arthur's eyes.

"Not his secret admirer, huh? Then what was that envelope doing in your pocket, Artie?" Alfred set down Arthur rather roughly and bent down to pick it up, waving it in front of Arthur's face as if taunting him.

"N-none of your business. Now give that back, it's mine."

"Uh-huh, sure it is." Dodging the Brit's grabby hands, Alfred handed the letter to Matthew with a wink and began walking out through the doors.

"Alfred, wait! Where are you going?" Matthew called after him.

"Just getting some breakfast. Don't worry, I'll be back before the meeting; just thought you two needed some alone time." And with that, the double doors shut behind him.

The two men just stared awkwardly at each other, Arthur's eyes darting back and forth every now and then to avoid looking at Matthew. After a moment or two, Matthew carefully opened the letter, fumbling with it slightly due to the bag of sweets in his hands, and looked it over. His attention turned back to Arthur.

"Arthur, have you really been the one writing all of those letters?"

The Brit looked up at him, cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink. "Y-yes. Yes, I suppose I was the one behind the letters. I know I should have told you sooner, but I thought that would ruin the surprise. After all, I'm prickly to most while you're beloved by many. I guess I thought that once you found out, you would be revolted and-"

He was cut off as Matthew's lips pressed against his, the feeling of love and passion transmitting through that one simple action. When he pulled away, Arthur saw the smile on Matthew's face that greeted him every time he closed his eyes; a smile that could melt the iciest of hearts.

"Why would I be revolted? Your letters always made me so overjoyed, so loved. How could you think such a thing?" Matthew held up the bag and handed it to Arthur, who gave him a perplexed look before taking it.

"What's this?"

"I thought I should make my 'secret admirer' some sweets as a token of gratitude and appreciation for all of the kind words they sent me."

"Ah, thank you, Matthew, but I'm afraid I can't take these lovely sweets."

Now it was Matthew's turn to be confused. "Why not?"

"Because," Arthur said as he pressed a loving kiss to Matthew's cheek, "Your kisses are so much sweeter than any candy in the world."

* * *

 _ **A/N: This was written back in 2013 but it still remains as one of my stronger works;; I am currently out of practice with writing Hetalia; however I do have a story I started back in 2014, so please tell me if this was good enough and maybe I'll think about rebooting up that other story.**_


End file.
